(To anyone who bounced over here from marriage confessions: Hi! Apologies for the lack of posts. Read below to see why I have no time for blogging in the past two weeks. Keep checking back, in March I will regain my life. Also, thanks to Katie for answering my question! I might be obsessed with her like she is with Ree. I’ll never admit it in court.)
This thesis writing thing. For lack of a better term (and as a future english teacher I’m always chagrined to lack a better term), it sucks. hard.
Now that I’ve gotten that out there, let me clarify and qualify that statement. I LOVE my thesis topic. I’m writing about female health practitioners during the Massachusetts witchcraft trials of 1650-1700. These stories still fascinate me, and I still think they deserve to be told. I know that in a few short weeks I’ll have a piece of scholarship I can be truly proud of. And, fingers crossed, some nifty latin honors to go on my brand spankin new diploma.
Still, writing a thesis is not easy. By any stretch of the imagination.
Nor is it always fun. The night before last, I may have snapped a little. I think the siren song of fun did it. Saturday night I went bowling with friends and the Grumpy Old Man (ie the boyfriend. More on him later.). Let me tell you how you feel about bowling. I LOVE BOWLING. I love it enough to go all **OMG ALL CAPS INTERNETZ*** on you. I apologize. Bowling requires that kind of devotion. The downside of going bowling was the end of the evening. Grumpy Old Man (GOM) unwittingly set off the avalanche of overwhelming stress by pointing out the amount of work we both needed to do on Sunday.
Let me summarize the next two days for you: I flipped the frick out. There were tears. There was maudlin soft rock music. It was not pretty.
I’m better now. Sort of. I’ll be all the way better in march. For now, I’ve found that going to the gym is the best possible remedy. I funnel my frustration into that treadmill. I tell my flabby butt who’s boss. Then I go to the library and get to work. If this gets me through the next three weeks, I’m all for it. So is my rear. I’m also taking to heart the words of my favorite christmas movie and counting my blessings instead of sheep:
- I have a world class collection of music. My mood is incredibly responsive to music: a cheerful song is like a drug to me.
- I seriously love my job. Middle school kids put you in your place.
- Grumpy Old Man. He may be grumpy, but he also knows how to deal with overwhelmed Ashley: tell me I’m awesome, tell me to buck up, quote Old Greg.
- I have friends in the same boat.
- I have friends in an entirely different boat. If I’m on the titanic, they’re pleasure boating in the Caribbean. I can always hitch a ride.
- In 3-4 months I’ll be in sunny Texas.
- Katie from Marriage Confessions answered my question. Katie; let’s be friends. K? k. Glad that’s decided.
Props to anyone who got this far. I’m not sure if anyone is out there, I believe it’s entirely possible that I have no readers. Bueller?…. Bueller?
Broadcasting radio nowhere to anyone alive out there,